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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627720">The Curse of Grima</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Mai/pseuds/Deviant_Mai'>Deviant_Mai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Plegian Royalty My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Chrobin - Freeform, Culture difference, Dragons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fantasy, Female My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Grima is a diety in Plegian culture kinda thing, Plot Twists, Political Alliances, Slow Burn, Will add tags as I go, the curse of Grima</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:48:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Mai/pseuds/Deviant_Mai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since an incident as a child, Prince Chrom of Ylisse has had the strangest dreams. Of course, with the war raging on against Plegia, he hardly has time to worry about some silly creatures he sees in his dreams. Yet there is something calling him, something he keeps seeing in the crowd. </p><p>He was used to being told that Ylisse's history ran deep, but nothing can compare to the dark past that plagues Plegia. Both kingdoms leave a burden on it's successor's and both kingdoms leave a trail of victims...but who will prevail?</p><p>And it all starts with a prince and a dragon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chrom &amp; Frederick (Fire Emblem), Chrom &amp; Liz | Lissa, Chrom &amp; My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Chrom/Gimurei | Grima, Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin, chrom and the Shepards</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: The Stormy Night Hides Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         He never thought this is how things would end. His back pressed against the cold stone, rain drenching his hair so that his bangs draped over his eyes. His clothes clung to his frame, shuddering as he held his breath. The young boy only stared in terror, his expression frozen as his blood ran cold.  He couldn’t bring his gaze away though, only able to stare ahead at the danger that was in front of him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        Six magenta eyes were narrowed at him, bearing into his soul.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        The young prince didn’t hear the distant shouts from the guards, yelling to locate him. He doubted they would look down into the ravine, his small frame hidden by the large trees. Even if he wasn’t out of sight, no sound could come from his throat to call for aid. He heard the soft growling from the creature that stood before him, it’s head the size of his upper body. He could only see the dark outline of the beast, the dark night shielding it from his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        The eyes never left him, seeming entranced with him just as much as he was with them. They were so warm, despite how narrowed and feral they looked. Yet there was something in them, something that called out to the boy. The beast exhaled, it’s breath rustling his hair. If he wasn’t faced with such sheer terror, he’d say that this was exhilarating.  The moment the beast jaws opened slightly, that thought completely went out the window. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>       It was hard for him to recall the moment he decided to go out that night. He hadn't planned on his impulsive escape from the castle grounds, hadn't expected to feel guilt for his younger sister- who had cried about being locked in her room all day because she had fallen ill. She had been so distraught about not being able to see the flowers, the same flowers the young prince clutched in his hands to bring back. He had been on his way back when the storm hit, making him lose his way and fall. Only to awaken to this thing standing above him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        The monster observed him, tilting its head in what seemed to be confusion. It’s nostrils flared as it inhaled. It shifted its weight slightly, rain cascading off of it’s frame. The storm raged on, the voices nearing closer and closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        “Chrom!!!”, he heard a shrill scream. “Chrom!!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        He recognized his mother instantly, fear plaguing his mind as the creature lifted it’s head towards the voice. It was the moment he realized how large this thing was compared to his smaller form, towering above him as it blocked the white light from the moon just like the clouds. It’s jaws opened slightly, teeth glinting in the moonlight. Chrom pressed himself further back, not taking his eyes from the beast. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        “W-Who are you?”, the boy asked with a shaky voice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        He knew that the question “what are you” would have most likely been a better query despite the beast most likely not being able to talk. Yet it had a reaction to his question, it’s head swinging back around to face him. Teeth baring slightly, the boy felt his blood ran cold as the eyes narrowed at him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        In a flash, lighting lit up the sky, revealing all of its dark secrets that had been hidden in the shadows. He only saw a glimpse of the form that draped itself above him. He was only able to discern several things about the creatures. It’s dark purple scales that covered its body, the huge wings that came from it’s back, and the tears that marred the creature’s forms- blood mixing in with the rainwater beneath it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        The soldiers were closer, Chrom practically able to hear them above him. The monster seemed to be aware of the same thing. It lurched forward, it’s snout mere inches away from his face. A voice rang through his head, sounding like a young girl. Her tone was smooth and comforting, yet was interlaced with sadness and...afraid.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Forget me.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        And with that, the creature bounded away. It ran in the opposite direction, a long tail whipping behind it as it sprinted across the ravine. Trailing behind them were black chains, cuffed to the creature's hind legs and the He heard the soldier reach the clearing, staring in shock as he had as he saw the creature. It leaned back on it’s haunches before it’s wings spread out, flying up into the stormy sky. The guards jumped down to come retrieve him, his mother sobbing and yelling for them to retrieve him faster. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        When the soldiers pulled him up the small hill, Chrom couldn’t respond, not even as his mother fervently kissed him all over with tears falling from her eyes. His eyes were still on the form in the sky, where all of the guard’s eyes were staring as well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        One of the men’s voices trembled, “Grima…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>        Chrom felt his mother stiffen beside him holding her son closer. The name was familiar to the boy, something he most likely heard in one of his history lessons. Yet the meaning of what the guard was implying would be lost on him for years to come. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>        The night that he came face to face with the beast would change his life forever. He knew it then and his thoughts continued to plague him before his mother pulled away, gripping his cheeks tightly. She looked enraged, tears in her blue eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>       "What did you think you were doing," she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You could have been killed?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>       No words came from his slacked jaw, his eyes just staring at his mother while he clutched the tattered remains of the yellow flowers Lissa cried for. And as his mother clung to him, the lightning flashing once again as a loud roar rang throughout the kingdom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Forget me. </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What It's Like to Forget</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Years later, Chrom and his Shepherds make their trek back home to Ylisse to negotiate for more supplies and aid...something Chrom is not excited for in the slightest. As he heads back to his home, Chrom reflects on the years past and what might come next.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heya, just wanted to let you guys know that I'm changing some things about the lore for this alternate Universe. I go into detail in the chapter but just be aware of that as you read. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         There they were. Six eyes staring at him, as if they could peak into his soul. As if they could read every part of him. The warm glow from them broke through the darkness that plagued his mind. It was strange, the feeling of ease that washed over him. His muscles relaxed slightly, the eyes never leaving him. Then they were gone, coldness gripping his chest once again. He spun around, looking for anything in the dark, any sign of light. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Standing a distance away, a glimmer of white and purple- something flowing slightly in the wind. It was so close, his hands outstretched to touch it, to hold it close in his hands. Yet the moment he was so close, the second it was almost in his reach-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom awoke in the burlap sack that he liked to call a bed arrangement. Not that he was complaining, his tent unit was quite comfortable and managed to protect him from the cold winds that blew against it. The Shepherds didn’t always have the luxury of staying warm at night, they were lucky that the winds were less harsh this season. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         After a short stretch and a loud yawn, he exited the tent and was immediately met with a snowball to the face. He stumbled back as he heard a sharp giggle from behind a thick tree trunk. He kneeled, gathering his own ball of snow in his hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “I wonder where my dear sister has gone,” he hummed playfully. “I have such a lovely gift for her, it would be a shame if she didn’t receive it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         He heard a hushed snicker as he stalked forward, making sure that the crunch of snow beneath his boot. He had reached the tree, hearing his sister’s breathing still as she tried to remain silent. Chrom raised the snowball, ready to pelt her with it before a stern voice came from the camp. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Certainly Milord has better things to accomplish in the morning,” Frederick raised a brow. “Especially considering the days events.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom froze, the snowball in the air before quickly lowering it behind his back. He gives a cheeky grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Well, of course, I was just uh-”, his explanation was cut short as another clump of snow smacked him in the face as Lissa jumped out from behind the tree. She paled when she saw the broad man, opting to play with one of her pigtails.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Oh um, morning Federick”, she said with a slight grin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         He sighed as Chrom shook his head, flecks of snow flying at Lissa who shielded her hand. Chrom could practically hear Frederick scornful comments that he was preparing to deliver before he saw a glimpse of a bright pink dress exit another tent. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Lissa!,” a shrill accented voice called out. “Please don’t tell me you are rummaging through the snow again!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom and Frederick slowly turned to Lissa, who had a poker face. She then smiled, tucking her hands behind her back with a cheeky grin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Duty calls. Mariabelle wants me to look proper before we reach Ylisse.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Frederick nods, “As princess, it would be fitting if you looked your best. Even after all of the trials and tribulations we have faced.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa groaned, “Yes but we’re gonna get dirty all over again! Even if I’m on one of the horses, the mud will still get my dress muddy. Dirty snow is so disgusting when it starts to melt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “You really underestimate how short you are,” Chrom replied. “I doubt anything will reach you”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa was prepared to retort until Mariable yelled for her once again, poking out her head from the tent. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “In the name of the gods, Lissa, can you please hurry? We need to leave at some point!”, she called. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa sighed and ran back over to the tent, purposefully kicking up snow towards Chrom. Chrome shakes his head before turning to Frederick, his expression becoming more serious. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Anything to report?” He asked the armored man. Frederick shook his head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “We have no sign of Plegians following us, and none of the units standing guard have seen anything,” Chrom nodded. “We should not become complacent however, they could be hiding and waiting for an attack”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “It wouldn’t be too out of character for them. We must be careful...especially with their magic.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom’s mind flickered back to when he was a child, learning the basic differences between his kingdom and the, at the time, peaceful neighboring one. Plegia had mastered the use of the dark magic throughout the land, many of its soldiers being able to use tomes with ease. Their magic skill was a wonder to the land before the war began...before their magic was used to destroy village after village. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         It was hardly like Ylisse was magic less in any sense, they just had other strengths. Before the war, Ylisse was a peaceful region that hadn’t needed any use of dark magic. Instead, they focused on their healing magic, being able to seal and fix wounds with ease. It was no wonder that Lissa became so attached to the idea, learning magic throughout her life. She was a natural born healer, akin to how Chrom was a natural fighter. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         He always found it fitting that he was the royal who looked nothing like his siblings, them being adored for their peaceful and nurturing side while...well, he was hardly adored but he was respected for his prowess on the battlefield. A successful Captain of the militia? Yes. King of Ylisse? Naga nor himself didn’t seem to believe so, Emmeryn was a far better choice for Exalt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Yet Plegia seemed to entice him, in a way that he didn’t dare mention to his companions in fear of looking crazy. There was something...calling to him, something so distant that he couldn’t really explain it even if he wanted to. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “If that’s the case,” Chrom began walking back towards the camp. “we should begin to pack up and head out. Wouldn’t want to make everyone keep their guard up when we are this close to the kingdom”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Indeed milord. I will see to it.” Fredrerick said with a nod. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom entered his tent and took his sword, falchion, fastening it to his belt. The blade was the last thing his father left for him before…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         His hand trailed on the weapon, tracing the hilt. He shouldn’t allow himself to think about those times. About what happened. What mattered now was that his father believed in him, gave him this sword to do the right thing. He heard legends about it, the only blade that has the power to slay any dragon. That had to mean something, even if he had never even seen a dragon. Nor did he really know if they actually existed, only mythologies and tales filling his head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had never seen one...but why did he feel as if he had?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Shaking his head of all of his thoughts, he folded his bedding and prepared to leave. The others needed him to be strong in the last leg of their journey, and he would have to make sure that he would look presentable. They had to give the kingdom hope that they were winning the war and if they all looked exhausted, it wouldn’t send a good message. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         After he pulled down his tent and approached his horse, he heard a loud thud behind him. Chrom turned to see Sumia standing up in the snow, dusting herself fervently as she blushed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “A-Ah, sorry milord,” she stammered with a gentle tone. “I was only coming to speak with you- and- Well, you see I fell”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom smiled. “No worries, Sumia. As long as you haven’t injured yourself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         She nodded quickly, “Indeed, I- well, my fall was cushioned by the snow and-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Miriel glanced over, pushing up her glasses as she adjusted the straps on her horse’s saddle. She hardly emoted as she spoke, “statistically, Sumia, you are ten times more likely to fall during the winter. This is astonishing percent change, considering you nearly fall in any terrain.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Sumia blushed slightly, although she smiled. “That..sounds pretty accurate.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “My calculations are always correct,” Miriel responded. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom glanced over the camp, seeing the others during their final preparations to leave. Lissa approached, clutching her dress with an annoyed look. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Someone looks clean for once,” Chrom smiled. “Mariebelle should win some kind of award for the work she doesn on you”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa huffs, “Well it seems that you should have more lessons on how to treat a lady. Nobody likes a noble who is as misbehaved as you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Sorry, Lissa, doubt manners are going to be the first thing on everyone’s minds”, he replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Emm says that we always should be mannered because if we aren’t well behaved-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom rolled his eyes. “Then we are no better than farm animals. Gods, you don’t have to repeat it every day. Besides, I seriously doubt that throwing a snowball at someone’s face would be considered ‘well mannered’. I wonder if Emm thinks the same”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa paled before scoffing, “You wouldn’t dare tell her. Not unless you want her to hear about how you tossed mud at me. I’m sure that’s worse than snow, don’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom swung back around, opting to ignore the snarky gloating that would come from his little sister. He glanced to the side, seeing Frederick give him a firm nod. Lissa beamed and bounded away towards her horse, Chrom hearing Mariebelle shriek as Lissa’s dress touched the snow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Only minutes later was the militia heading through the woods towards the large kingdom. Their spirits were high this time around, having successfully pushed back the Plegian army. Chrom knew the brief moment of serenity would not last, not with the increasing pressure placed on them at all times. Ylisse’s naval fleets were not in top tier shape to deal with the threat, and Emm specifically called for him to make his case to the council. He only hoped they would listen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         They reached the moor outside Ylisstol, the capital city that surrounded the castle. The snow was thinner out here, the grass still being visible beneath the layer. Chrom was unsure if he wished for the winters to end, knowing that it would loosen the tensions within Ylisse as the lack of food is always hard during the winter. Yet, as Captain of the Shepherds, he knew that it gave them an advantage over the Plegians, who always seemed to be in a dry desert. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         The militia entered the city, Frederick close behind Chrom as they pushed forward. Many of the citizens just paused to stare, the once loud markets becoming silent. The war is not something anyone wants, but considering how peaceful Ylisse was prior, it was not hard to relate to these people. But with Plegia instigating war with Ferox and Ylisse in an attempt to take over Valm, a response was necessary. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom let his thoughts continue to drift before he saw something that caught his attention. It was only a woman, who hid her right hand beneath her robe. From her attire she seemed to be a beggar, a large coat that had been stitched together with its seams showing prominently. It hung loose from her frame, draping to the ground so he couldn’t see any part of her body. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         She seemed absolutely normal, her clothes weren’t what caught his eyes. Silver hair flew back through the breeze, only held by a loose string put in her hair. Something felt so familiar about it, so calming. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he got whiplash as Lissa’s horse ran into his, shoving him and his horse forward. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Some of the townsfolk giggled as the two royals attempted to gather themselves, although they hid their smiles by turning away. He felt his ears burn with embarrassment, as even some of the Shepherds chuckled. Chrom kept his eyes low, only daring to look back at the silver haired woman- half expecting her to have vanished just like the silver light in his dream. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Yet there she stood, pausing where she stood. She had turned slightly, not giving him a clear view of her face. But she was clearly looking at him, hidden by her white hair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “What’cha lookin at Chrom?,” Lissa mused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “N-nothing.”, He replied with a curtness to his voice, swinging back his head to face the front and nudging his horse. He groaned as Lissa sped up to walk beside him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Were you looking at that woman?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “None of your business.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa shrugged with a coy look, “Maybe not. But I’m sure we could start looking for someone for you~”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “Pardon?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “You’re getting older, Chrom, you’re gonna need a suitor eventually”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         He huffed, “Lissa, it's a suitress. <em> You </em> are going to be the one who has a suitor.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         She hummed, the prince pinching the bridge of his nose as he expected her to go on her hour long drooling session over all of the bachelor’s who have already offered her their hands. Fortunately, Frederick cut her off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         “From her clothing, she seemed to be a beggar. Unfit to marry into a royal family”, he said monotonously. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Lissa turned, her brow furrowed. “You aren’t allowed to say things like that about a woman, gods no wonder why neither of you have found a girl yet”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Chrom smiled Frederick, who didn’t even flinch at the comment. He was not surprised to find that same neutral expression, hardly flinching at the insult. Classic Frederick.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         He turned back, seeing the woman was gone. He felt a strange feeling of...sadness? He couldn’t quite place it but it was disappointing to see her go. He felt as if he knew her, as if she was part of him somehow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Forget Me. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         He gripped his forehead, trying to recall something that he was missing. Although he couldn’t understand what faint memory he was trying to recall, he knew now wasn’t the time. He had to be prepared to speak to the council about what follows. Chrom tilted his head towards the sky, his breath visible in the chilly air. The cloudy sky blocked the sun, casting shadows down on Ylisse. He lowered his gaze to the castle ahead, inhaling sharply. He was as ready as he would ever be. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Elsewhere in the city, the silver haired woman clutched her robes tightly, her knuckles white. Her back was pressed against again a stonewall, sheltering herself from the military group that paraded through the streets. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         She clutched her hand, sheltering the mark she attempted to hide every time she came out in the open, despite the fact that it was loosely wrapped with a cloth she had found. She knew the risk of her getting caught was low, as long as she stayed out of the way...hence the fear that spiked in her chest the moment the head of the army had seen her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         She inhaled shakilly, knowing that what comes if she cannot keep her cool. She must remain calm, must stay poised and focused. Her mind cannot slip, not when she’s out in the open. Not when she’s vulnerable. Ylisse had eyes everywhere, even if the eyes didn’t belong to them. Spies walked amongst her, she knew the risk she made every time she stepped out of her shelter to get to the market, but like it or not, she couldn[t risk it out in the forest to hunt. Not when anyone could see her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Yet she clutched her grumbling stomach, knowing that she hardly had enough gold coins to afford anything. Guess hunting would have to do. After the parade of soldiers passed, she ran across the street, avoiding eye contact with anyone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She just had to get away. Stay hidden. Stay alive. Just as her mother always told her. </p>
<p>No risks. No chances. Just surviving.</p>
<p>That's all that mattered. </p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!</p>
<p>Also, if anyone knows how to embed images, I would love to learn how for future chapters. I know they post instructions on ao3's questions page but it's not great at explaining while also being basically a dead chat, so there are no responses to questions. If someone could help me, that would be great. Thanks!</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Curse of Grima: Ending Hiatus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So Hiatus really hit hard this time. With everything going on in my life, I just got distant from Ao3. From personal issues and projects, to the corona virus, and now other issues- I just fell out of touch. I've scripted out the rest of this story and plan to complete this story! I plan to have the next chapter tonight and to (hopefully) post weekly. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for those who commented on the first two chapters, and I hope the rest of the story can impress. </p><p>Thank you, and I'll see you in the next chapter :)</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Journal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As Chrom realizes how out of touch he is with Ylisstol's capital as his attempts to jumpstart their defenses into the war fails. As he relives moments from his childhood, he discovers some connections that he didn't know were there.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay, hope you all enjoy chapter three! I'm excited to be back with this story honestly and I can't wait to keep writing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>        Chrom flopped his body on the large bed inside his chambers. It was odd to be asleep on something so soft and cushioned, the way it molded around him feeling foreign compared to the rocky turf in the wilderness. Although everything felt foreign to him now. It was one of the main arguments the council had used to tear him a new one in the meeting. </p><p> </p><p>        “You have lost touch with Ylisse’s ideals, Captain,” one of the Duke’s had told him. “Perhaps you would need a refresher before you would consider sending our men out to a war they do not wish for.”</p><p> </p><p>        The Duke’s words had been polite, but despite Chrom’s lack of skills in the court, he was conscious of the bitterness that laced every line. Even Frederick had flinched at the demeaning comment, although he hardly showed it through his facial expression. Frederick was more action than words sometimes, hence the reassuring pat on his shoulder that he gave as Chrom exitted. </p><p> </p><p>        And so here he was, sulking. Father always told him to not pout, that a man was to fight back- to be the embodiment of action. But the fighting had worn on his soul a bit, his muscles sore, and the less than splendid response to his plea...in Naga’s name, he was so tired. Yet he couldn’t sleep, not with everything on his mind. </p><p> </p><p>        There was a knock on his door and Chrom groaned, “Lissa, I love you, but please I cannot deal with another story about the newest prince who’s come by. We can talk later”</p><p> </p><p>        There was a gentle laugh before the door opening, Emmeryn entering his quarters. She had a soft smile, approaching his desk and sitting in the chair. She had a journal in her hand, which was worn and old. </p><p> </p><p>        “Sadly, I do have tales of possible suitors lining up outside the walls everyday, but I doubt I could make it as entertaining as Lissa’s”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom leaned up, “Sorry Emm, I didn’t know it was you.”</p><p> </p><p>        She crossed her legs in the chair, humming, “I know. Apologies to interrupt you while you were resting, I just wanted to come check on you to make sure you were alright”</p><p> </p><p>        He felt his ears heat up, “Why wouldn’t I be? The court had problems with my claims, they expressed them.”</p><p> </p><p>        Emmeryn only had to tilt her head, giving him a look of understanding. She could read him like a book, it’s always been like that ever since he was a young boy. And so, without a second thought, he let out a loud groan- akin to a child. </p><p> </p><p>        “It's just moronic, Emm, the council has seen countless pieces of evidence that Plegia is coming. They are trying to push us to war and until we commit, they will continue their raids”</p><p> </p><p>        His sister sighed, “We understood your claims, Chrom. But if we respond to instigation with a war, we will all lose. An all out war is not what we need”</p><p> </p><p>        “We give up now and we could possibly lose the chance to ally with Ferox.”</p><p> </p><p>        The Exalt straightened her posture as her tone became more stern, “Plegia does not want war. It’s their rulers who want it. The people will see their supplies, their food, everything they work for being used up to try and instigate something that will take more from them.”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom looked down, knowing that there was truth to her words. Every time they trudged through the villages of Plegia, they were silent. No words of support for their troops and no antagonization of the Shepherds, aside from a few stragglers who would die if their leaders told them to. Some even thanked Lissa, as she had personally healed them after they got caught in the crossfire. </p><p> </p><p>        Yet Chrom couldn’t stop placing blame on the kingdom, especially for their actions several years ago. He could never forget what they had done. </p><p> </p><p>        Emmeryn observed him before pulling off her headdress, setting it on the desk. She moves over and sits besides the bluenette, who shuffled a bit to give her space. She sighed and looked down sadly.</p><p> </p><p>        “While you were away, one of our old tutors passed away,” Chrom looked up. “Mistress Fletcher.”</p><p> </p><p>        He smiled slightly, fond childhood memories trickling in. “I remember her. The old woman who hated me because I flunked all of our exams?”</p><p> </p><p>        Emm chuckled, “I believe it was more so because you and the other children would sneak out to sword fight rather than pay attention to her studies.”</p><p> </p><p>        “Ah, that adds up”</p><p> </p><p>        Both siblings laughed a bit, although there was still sadness in the air. Chrom and Miss Fletcher may have not gotten along when he was younger, but she had always been gentle with him. They had talked often when he had matured more, and she educated him about the culture of Plegia so they could use it to their advantage. </p><p> </p><p>        The young Exalt drifted her hand over the worn journal before passing it to him. He took it gently and looked quizzically at her. </p><p>       </p><p>        “She left it for you. Apparently, it was one of your first journals from class”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom looked down at the book, “She kept it?”</p><p> </p><p>        “I didn’t want to look through it without your permission,” Emm stood up. “But she had mentioned that it was more akin to a sketchbook for you. I assume she adored your little drawings”</p><p> </p><p>        He didn’t recall being anything near an artist when he was a child, which only made him more confused about the contents of the worn journal. He prayed to Naga that it wasn’t any gossip from his teen years or he would have to burn the thing. </p><p> </p><p>        Emmeryn placed back on her headdress, glancing over at her brother, “perhaps it would be better if you stayed for longer. To try and convince the council while you do your own research into Plegia.”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom nodded, “Thanks for coming to speak with me, Emm.”</p><p> </p><p>        Emmeryn gave a comforting smile before leaving, closing his door behind her. She would no doubt go to speak with Lissa next, Chrom hoping that his older sister could console their youngest. Lissa and their tudor were close after their mother passed.</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom’s fingers traced the book cover before opening the journal. It’s pages were old and ink that clearly wasn’t dry when he closed it stuck some of the pages together. He cringed when he saw older writing, even so when the barely legible writing detailed an old crush he had on a girl. This thing should really go into the fire. But if his old tutor wished for him to keep it, then he would respect her wishes.</p><p> </p><p>        He closed it, standing to place it back in a drawer before a piece of paper slid out, sliding to the ground. Chrom bent to pick it up, glancing it over before shoving it back in the book. He then froze, slowly pulling it back out. </p><p> </p><p>        It was an old drawing, clearly done in passing and without much thought put to it. It was a creature he had never seen before, yet it had so much detail to it. It was a long beast, covered in scales with two horns adorning it’s head. It’s tail was long and trailed behind it, four legs each with a set of long claws. Most interesting of all were the six wings that went along it’s back, seemingly feathered in nature like an angel. He must have snuck into Emmeryn’s paints because the only thing colored on the page were six bright magenta eyes on the creature’s face...six eyes. </p><p> </p><p>        He studied the whole drawing for a long time. The thing just looked so familiar yet so foreign. He flipped the paper before paling slightly. On it was the a mark that seemed plegian in nature, Chrom swearing that he had seen it decorated on enemy mage’s robes before. </p><p> </p><p>        Chrom clutched the paper before moving over to his study, countless dirty textbooks in shelves that had gone untouched since he was a child. He didn’t have time to read these days, but he recalled loving the fantasy stories his mother had told him. He scanned the books before</p><p>finding the one he needed. In an almost archaic font, it read <em> The Anthologies and Mythologies of Plegia.  </em></p><p> </p><p>        He settled at his desk, flipping through pages. How did he know what he was searching for? The prince couldn’t explain it, he just knew where everything he needed was by instinct. Perhaps he had paid more attention in class than he thought. </p><p> </p><p>        Chrom paused when he saw an ancient drawing, showing a creature that looked similar to the one who had drawn. But it was different in so many ways. This creature was huge, lacking any of the gentle details the previous one had. It’s horns were akin to spears atop it’s head, piercing forward. It’s jaw was unhinged, thousands of razor sharp teeth going back in rows. It lacked legs, only having six wings that kept it’s form in the air. Yet there were six eyes, a harsh purple and yellow color. Underneath it read:</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Grima, The Fell Dragon of Plegia</b>
</p><p>
  <b>________</b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Through my various studies, I have never found such a concerning yet methodical god to follow than those the Plegians do. Thousands of years ago, this dragon sought to conquer Archanea but was defeated using an ancient sword . It’s terror has been documented in our Ylissian texts thoroughly. </em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>The interesting aspect of my research is when I discovered how Plegia recounts these horrific attacks. They worship the Fell Dragon as a diety, akin to how Ylisse looks to Naga. The difference is as clear as day though, as Plegians pray for god to return and to bring destruction to the world once again. </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>There is no way to release Grima, yet they continue to pray. Yet there religious group seems to be focused on bringing this dragon back through various means, including-</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>        “Researching ancient gods, milord?”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom jumped up, slamming the large book shut. He swung around, seeing Frederick without his armor and in normal attire. </p><p> </p><p>        He glared slightly at the man, “You can’t just come in without asking first!”</p><p> </p><p>        “I had knocked several times,” the knight replied without a care. “I assumed you could have used assistance.”</p><p> </p><p>        The prince sighed, “I’m good. Thank you Frederick.”</p><p> </p><p>        The brunette gave a nod and began making his way out before pausing. Chrom turned to see Frederick reading through the journal. He rushed over and attempted to snatch it from the guard, who simply held it over Chrom’s head.</p><p> </p><p>        “Hey, that’s personal!”</p><p> </p><p>        Frederick tilted his head, “Is this an old journal?” </p><p> </p><p>        “My tutor left it for me, yes!”, he managed to jump up and pull it away from Frederick. Before he could give another retort about invading his privacy, he saw a look of confusion on the man’s face. </p><p> </p><p>        “What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>        Frederick looked thoughtfully, “I only assumed that this journal was more recent despite its state.”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom held the book tighter, “And why would you believe that?”</p><p> </p><p>        “The woman from earlier is in it.”</p><p> </p><p>        Instant confusion washed over the prince and he looked down at the journal to the page that Frederick was referring too. And sure enough, there was a poor illustration of a woman. Her back was turned, a dark purple coat on her back that had the same Plegian marking from earlier in the book. And more so, flowing behind her was the same silver hair he had seen. </p><p> </p><p>        “I…I suppose I must have seen her at some point when I was younger”, he lied. He knew something deeper was going on but Frederick would only think he was crazy. </p><p> </p><p>        The man clearly did not believe Chrom, but lowered his head nonetheless. </p><p> </p><p>        “Very well. Message for me if you need anything, Captain”</p><p> </p><p>        Chrom half waved as Frederick exited his quarters. He had more questions than answers and he knew that he had to figure this out. He had some down time anyways, they were essentially trapped in Ylisse until the council gave their approval. </p><p> </p><p>        “<em>They had said that I needed to get more in touch with Ylisse… </em>” Chrom thought to himself with a slight smirk. But Frederick would hardly let him venture into the towns alone, not in the middle of the night, and especially not before they just had a grand reappearance. </p><p> </p><p>        Sadly for Frederick,  Chrom had essentially mastered how to sneak out of the castle when he was a child. And with that, he moved to his wardrobe to change into a new attire to be less conspicuous. Something was calling him elsewhere...and he was determined to find what it was. </p><p> </p><p>        Elsewhere in the castle town, she walked alone. Night was nearing, and she knew from past experiences that this was the most active time for criminals to wander. She could hold her own, in more ways than one, but she knew it was more tactical to just avoid a confrontation all together. </p><p> </p><p>        She approached the abandoned house she liked to call home. It was not uncommon for beggars to come in stay in the free space, essentially being a congregating place for those who had no place to go. Not that the officials knew of it, one had to use a secret passage to get in. But it was a gamble every time you left. If there was no more space and someone took yours, well, have fun out in the cold. Especially during the winter. </p><p> </p><p>        She smoothly climbed over the tall stonewall, gracefully landing on the other side. She neared the backdoor of the home, paling when she saw a large man outside. He was clearly standing guard, and she had seen him get into altercations with others before. </p><p> </p><p>        She observed a woman and her child near the door, speaking to him frantically. She hugged her child, who was clearly shivering and not wearing the right attire for this weather. But the man shoved them away, glaring without an ounce of sympathy in his gaze. </p><p> </p><p>        “I keep telling you wench,” he snarled. “No more room.”</p><p> </p><p>        “Please, my baby needs something to keep her warm at least! We’ll leave but give us a blanket please…”, the woman pleaded. “My husband threw us out, we have nowhere else to go!”</p><p> </p><p>        “Not any of our problems. Now scram. Unless you want trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>        The woman choked back a sob before pulling her daughter’s hand. They began walking away, heads low. She knew that the girl wouldn’t survive the night. Not wearing what she was. Knowing she would regret this later, she approached the mother and daughter.</p><p> </p><p>        “Here,” she pulled off her robes and passed them to the mother. “Under the bridge near the castle, it tends to be warmer and should shelter you from the snow. That or there is near the bakery two streets over. He tends to bake during the night and the furnace tends to heat through the stone.”</p><p> </p><p>        The woman wiped her eyes, “Won’t you need this?”</p><p> </p><p>        She shook her head, pushing the robes into her hands. “I’ll be alright. Just take it.”</p><p> </p><p>        The woman nodded, her lip shaking as she was unable to formulate her gratitude. Instead, the white haired woman kneeled by the little girl.</p><p> </p><p>        “You’re very brave. What’s your name?”</p><p> </p><p>        “A-Alina”, the girl replied quietly. Her voice was shaky and her mother began to wrap her in the robe. </p><p> </p><p>        “Nice to meet you Alina. My name is Robin”, she replied. “Stay warm, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>        The girl nodded and Robin turned, walking away before the mother could ask her another question. Head held low, Robin cursed herself for giving away her disguise. And her means of staying warm. But she couldn’t bear to see those two suffer. A begging mother and a pitiful child, the dynamic only brought back painful memories. Memories she'd rather leave in the desserts of Plagia. </p><p> </p><p>        And so with another skilled jumped over the stone barrier, she was in the street again. Multiple people still walked around, although they were less than savory. Gangs, criminals, and anyone who was ready to take advantage of the weak. No wonder those who lacked homes hid so well in the night. She became one of them, stalking the streets for any sign of shelter. Her stomach continued to growl and she crossed her arms, her breath visible in the cold air. She knew she had to eat, but with the soldiers so close to the city, she’d be a dead woman in an hour at least. Especially with the townspeople looking for alternate sources of food. The game was good outside Ylisstol. Which was good and bad for her in many ways. </p><p> </p><p>        Robin sighed, pulling out the loose hair tie before pausing. She held it in her mouth as she fumbled with her cold hands to put up her hair. She really needed to find a better way to keep it out of her face. The makeshift tie did little to keep it up, and her fingers were far too cold to manage to braid it away.  </p><p> </p><p>        When the snows lifted, she would venture further North. Rotating where she had stayed is what kept her alive, even if the travel wore her down. It gave her the advantage though. She was unaware if <em> he </em> was still coming for her or not. The idea sent shivers down her spine, although she couldn’t discern whether that was because of the cold or the thought of him chasing her down.</p><p> </p><p><em>       I’m never going back there </em>, she thought to herself. She had no home now, she was free of Plegia and it’s horrors. He would never bring her back. </p><p> </p><p>        She was nearing an open area where she knew the market throughout old tarps and such after they got worn out. She would have to focus on making a new cover for herself. Staying alive meant staying hidden. She stepped out from the shadows, the moonlight glimmering off her hair as she did. </p><p> </p><p>        There was a feeling of unease that came over her, all of her senses putting her on edge. Robin turned slowly, hesitant on who was standing there. The plaza was dark, the clouds covering the moon in a way that sheltered any unwanted presences. She heard a scuffle sound before silence, her eyes narrowing as she stared. </p><p> </p><p>        The clouds moved away, revealing what they had hid before. Standing across the plaza was a young man, although she couldn’t quite discern his features until she squinted slightly. She stiffened as she recognized the man who stood there. The prince of Ylisse wore dark clothes that didn’t betray his heritage, seeming to be just like the other townspeople. Yet she knew it was him sure. </p><p> </p><p>The two stared at each other, the moon continuing to shine brightly down on the empty plaza. Not a word was spoken, the sounds of the night filling the air.</p><p>Two pairs of eyes, interlocked beneath the starry night. <br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!<br/>Just came up with a story idea for this one and wanted to write. I've been super stressed and just needed to relieve it. Hope to update soon, have an amazing day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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